The Money-Obssessed Archmage's Second Life As A Broke Duke-Chapter 81 - How???

Chapter Eighty One

"Ouch!"

A yelp left my lips as thorn prickled my knee, while I tried to walk into the direction where the music was coming from.

I swatted at the indigo bush, which recoiled with a shuddering rustle, its leaves folding inward like a sensitive plant on steroids.

The music was getting louder now.

It had a rhythmic, pulsing quality to it, weaving through the crystalline air in a way that made the very atmosphere feel thick, like walking through a dream made of gelatin.

Every time the flute-like note hit a high register, the three moons above flickered, casting long, dancing shadows that didn't quite match my movements.

"Great," I whispered, pulling my moonlight cloak tighter around my shoulders. "First the exploding hamsters, now the sentient shrubbery. What's next? A singing rock with a grudge? It's even worse than sulking Kaelen."

I pushed through the final layer of the thicket, the indigo branches clawing at my sleeves as if trying to hold me back from a terrible mistake.

As I broke into the clearing beyond, the music stopped abruptly.

The silence that followed was heavy, pressing against my eardrums with the weight of a physical object.

In the center of this clearing was a massive, hollowed-out stump of a silver tree. It was wide enough to house a small carriage, and its surface was etched with glowing runes that bled soft white light into the dirt. Sitting atop the stump was a figure that made me freeze mid-step.

It was a woman.

More precisely... A spirit in the shape of a woman, with skin the color of a winter twilight and hair that floated upward as if she were submerged in water. She wore a dress made of what looked like woven starlight, and in her hands was a long, thin instrument carved from a single piece of translucent bone.

She didn't look at me. She was staring at her hands, her expression one of profound boredom reflecting the one I used to have in my previous life.

"You're late," she said. Her voice didn't come from her mouth. It echoed from the ground beneath my boots, vibrating through my heels. "I thought I'd be playing Kashik forever to call you here."

I blinked, looking around to see if there was anyone else she could be talking to.

"Late? I didn't even know I was invited. I'm just... passing through. Looking for someone."

The woman finally looked up. Her eyes were solid gold, no pupils, no irises, just two burning coins set into her face. She tilted her head, and the movement was jerky, like a doll being moved by stiff wires.

"A mortal," she mused, the vibrations in the ground turning into a low hum. "A mortal with the scent of the Yggdrasil on his breath and the arrogance of God on his face. Do you know how long it has been since a living thing walked the Path of Whispers without screaming?"

I straightened my cloak, trying to regain some semblance of dignity despite the fact that I was currently sweating mint-scented vapor.

"I've been told I have a very handsome face, if that's what you mean. As for the screaming, I'm saving that for when I see the bill for this trip later."

The spirit stood up.

Her feet didn't touch the grass. Instead, they hovered an inch above the neon blades.

"You seek the Spirit Kings," she stated. "Everyone who falls from the sky seeks the Kings. They want power, or life, or a way to undo the knots they've tied in their own tiny, miserable timelines. The last one that came here rewinded time to save his lover."

Is she talking about Zein? Ugh... Who cares.

"I'm actually just looking for the Spirit Kings," I replied, keeping my voice steady. "To help my friends have a successful romance."

"Who are your friends?"

"An elf and a fox kin."

The woman let out a sound that might have been a laugh, though it sounded more like dry leaves being crushed under a boot.

She began to circle me, her starlight dress trailing behind her like a comet's tail. As she moved, the air around her grew colder.

The Breath of the Yggdrasil in my system fought back, sending waves of warmth through my veins, but it was a losing battle against the presence of whatever this being was.

"It's amusing. However, The Kings do not see 'Nuisances,'" she said, her golden eyes scanning me with the clinical detachment of a butcher looking at a side of beef. "To them, you are a speck of dust on the lens of eternity. But me? I find dust fascinating. It's so... messy. Why don't you become my husband?"

[Ping!]

[Host stay away from her.]

Gladly. But, how???

She stopped directly in front of me.

"I am the Weaver of the Low Paths," she whispered. "The Gatekeeper of the Faded. If you want to reach the High Seats, you have to give me something that was yours but isn't yours anymore."

I frowned.

"What do you want?"

"A memory," she said, her voice dropping to a low, melodic thrum. "Not just any memory. Give me the one thing you've forgotten on purpose. The secret you buried so deep that even you don't remember the shape of the shovel."

I let out a sharp breath. "That's a bit of a paradox, isn't it? If I've forgotten it, how am I supposed to give it to you?"

"I will reach in and take it," she said, the violet light at her fingertip intensifying until it began to hiss. "In exchange, I will show you the path that leads to the Fire King. If you refuse... you can stay here and turn into a tree and be my pretty husband."

I looked at the surrounding forest. The trees seemed to lean in, their neon leaves pulsing in anticipation.

The three moons were converging now, forming a triangle of harsh light directly above the clearing. My lungs were starting to burn again as the effects of the vial began to wane.

I didn't have a choice.

"Fine," I spat, bracing myself. "Take it. But if you break anything in my mind. Then, you're paying for the repairs."

The Weaver smiled, a terrifying expression that stretched too wide for her face. She lunged forward, her finger pressing against the center of my forehead.

The world didn't explode. It imploded.

The neon forest, the silver stump, and the violet sky vanished in a flash of blinding white as time seemed to freeze. But, that didn't last long.

"Ahhhhh!"

The Weaver screamed as her finger disconnected from my forehead.

"How... How is this possible!? How are you residing inside a human?"

What nonsense is she spouting?